


Vanity

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [8]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Napoleon gets a bit self-conscious over some “mementos” of a previous mission.





	Vanity

Napoleon usually never dwells on old cases too much—in their line of work, they really can’t afford to dwell in the past like that. But Napoleon is only human—a human who was trained in Survival School to use all of his charm and good looks as part of his arsenal. With that training came a certain kind of vanity.

Napoleon is undoubtedly vain, but it isn’t a mean-spirited vanity at all—more of an extreme self-consciousness brought about by his training. But, nevertheless, it is engrained in his mind, and even though he tries to brush off the injuries that he receives in the course of his duties, sometimes, he can’t help but focus on the scars they leave behind.

Most of the marks are temporary, and most of the permanent scars are otherwise unnoticeable. But there are large, ugly ones on his back—a memento of his encounter with Captain Shark and his whip.

They are permanent—Illya had broken the news to him the moment he had seen them, something that Medical confirmed upon their return.

At the time, Napoleon had tried to shrug it off, claiming that it merely meant he could no longer walk without a shirt in the summertime.

But as he glances over his shoulder at the reflection of his back on the mirror, he realizes just how true that statement is. He has to suppress a cringe at the thought of the pointing and staring he’d have to face if he did dare to wander without a shirt on the beach ever again.

Illya walks in now; scars are no stranger to him, either, though since he is far less concerned with how others see him, it is easy for him not to dwell on them.

He can sympathize with Napoleon, however—he knows how much Napoleon’s appearances mean to him.

“Napoleon…” he says. “You know, they do perform surgeries to cover up scars. There is that option—though, frankly, I do not think you need it.”

“You really think--?”

“Yes, I do,” Illya says. “These scars are not in a very noticeable place for the majority of the year.”

“But in summer…?”

“I am confident that most people at the beach will have better things to do than go looking around for scars on people,” Illya says. “And those who do are busybodies we shouldn’t pay any mind to, anyway.”

Napoleon does manage a chuckle, in spite of himself.

“But, as I said, it is your decision to make,” Illya says. “I can only offer my advice.”

“And I appreciate it,” Napoleon insists. He glances at the mirror once more. “Well… Not today, that’s for sure.”

He sighs as he put his shirt back on, but then smiles as he glances back at Illya.

“How about we go get dinner somewhere?”

Illya smiles back.

“Sounds wonderful.”

And the two of them head out, eager for what lies next.


End file.
